Queen and Country - Book 1: Proof of Concept
by SheWhoScrawls
Summary: When a mysterious professor arrives at Thorndon Hall, Emily and Ariana Watson know that something is wrong. They soon discover a dark secret about their family, and as the price of finding the truth climbs ever higher, Emily must travel to London to find her answers. But what else will she find there? First in a series. OC centered. T for some language and violence. Please R&R!


_A/N: So, this story was published before, but following a year of writer's block and sheer laziness and recent completion of the story and editing, I'm republishing it. Updates will be every few days until all chapters are posted. Please leave me your feedback/comments/questions in a review, as I am earnestly considering seeking publication with this series._ _I hope you enjoy, and do hang on - this may not seem very connected with our dear old boys of Baker Street at first, but it will be. -SWS_

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><p><em>~Queen and Country~<em>

_~Book 1: Proof of Concept~_

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><p><em>~Chapter 1: Ulterior Motives~<em>

The view from the library's bay window was everything it had always been. The windowpanes formed a transparent yet solid barrier between myself and the picturesque hills outside.

It wasn't that I couldn't step out the front door and break that barrier, not at all like I didn't have any freedom. I had freedom, so long as it didn't take me far from home.

All I'd ever known existed within those boundaries. It would surprise most people hos quickly being confined to an area of twenty miles becomes tedious. This was the reason that the library was my haven, my preferred place. So many of these volumes could take me so far from home without me ever leaving my favorite plush armchair.

This morning I had woken up with the same view out of my window that I had seen every morning for what was now stretching into eternity. But it was another one of those mornings when I yearned for something more.

As I stood in front of the window, I looked down at the book in my hand. It was _Treasure Island, _a recent publication by Robert Louis Stevenson. The printing date was less than five years ago, and Father wouldn't have cared enough about the maturing interests of his children to include recent works of literary entertainment in the massive library had Mother not insisted that we procure a copy.

I took another glance at the lush, green hillsides before settling down into the armchair, which was placed in front of the window but not directly facing it, so as to give the perfect angle and amount of light required for daytime reading.

I opened the book to chapter one and began reading the treasured favorite once more, relishing the rich tone and power of the words.

_Part 1: The Old Buccaneer_

_Chapter 1: The Old Sea Dog at the "Admiral Benbow"_

_Squire Trelawney, Dr. Livesey, and the rest of these gentlemen having asked me to write down the whole particulars about Treasure Island, from the beginning to the end, keeping nothing back but the bearings of the island, and that only because there is still treasure not yet lifted, I take up my pen in the year of grace 17-, and go back to the time when my father kept the "Admiral Benbow" inn, and the brown old seaman, with the sabre cut, first took up his lodging under our roof..._

When I had finished the fifth paragraph, my attention broke away from the page with the sound of echoing footsteps heading from the front of the library to where I was, at the back window.

I tensed, and started to develop a headache upon thinking that Mrs. Hunter, head of the housekeeping staff, might be disturbing my peaceful reading to inform me that she was going to wash my curtains. Instead, I heaved a sigh of relief when a more familiar, youthful voice called out for me.

"Emily!"

"I'm back here!" I called back.

The footsteps began to sound more hurried, and a few seconds later, a familiar face appeared around the corner. A face identical in every feature to mine, and flushed with excitement and urgency.

I arose, setting down the open book in my seat. "Ariana, is everything all right?"

She grabbed my arm and pulled me behind one of the shelves, as if someone could see us conversing in the openness of the otherwise empty room. Then my twin sister began to speak in a soft voice, as though someone could be eavesdropping on us - again in the otherwise empty room. "Do we know any tall, respectably dressed professors recently arrived from London?"

I narrowed my eyes at her."None come to mind," I answered cautiously. "Why?"

"Father has a visitor. I was passing the dining hall as he was being shown in. They shook hands and their attitude is obviously quite friendly."

"Did you hear them discussing these particulars which you have used to describe this mysterious visitor?"

She shook her head. "No, but I did see some indications which proved them to be true."

"And these are?"

"First of all the fact that he is a professor is betrayed by the fact that there is chalk residue between his right forefinger and thumb. I noticed it when he shook hands with Father."

"But why a professor? Why not just a teacher?"

"He teaches college level mathematics. His coat was hanging in the hall, and I found this in his pocket." From the pocket of her skirt she pulled a worn and wrinkled piece of paper.

I crossed my arms and glared at my sister. "You are _not _telling me you want through his pockets and actually _took _things."

She shrugged. "When Father has a 'friendly' visitor, especially all the way from London, wouldn't it be only hospitable to introduce him to his children? Besides, you and I both know you'd have done the same."

I sighed and snatched the paper from her hand, staring at it.

_Visiting lectures_

_-Cambridge_

_-Oxford_

_-Edinburgh_

_Assignments to collect:_

_Darcy_

_Phillips_

_Teller_

_Kelley_

I looked up in puzzlement at my sister. "This involves mathematics how?"

She peeked at the paper I held and grabbed it, flipping it over. "Wrong side."

eyebrows raised, I looked down at the other side of the paper. The formula itself I could not decipher, but fortunately, it was labeled as _The Binomial Theorem as presented by Sir Isaac Newton. _

I cleared my throat and handed the paper back to her. "So far I follow. But the recently arrived from London?"

"This was also in his coat pocket." She pulled out two more slips of paper and handed them over for my inspection.

Train tickets, the stamped first half of a round trip. Victoria Station, in London, to Cambridge, and so on to Suffolk, and Thorndon Station. Dated 12th August, 1887. Today.

I nodded and gave her back the tickets. "I see. You do not think this visit is what it seems to be."

She fixed me with a look. "Nothing has been as seems with Father since Mother passed away."

I nodded, knowing how right she was. "How do we get introduced to this mysterious professor?"

Ariana smiled. "I already thought of that. We'll walk into the dining hall, not realizing that Father has a guest, and ask to take our horses out for a little exercise."

"How will we know to find him there?"

"We asked Mrs. Hunter."

I nodded in agreement, and we shook hands, sealing the bond with an unspoken sisterly oath.

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><p>After a detour in the hall for Ariana to return the stolen items to the stranger's coat, we stepped though the large double doors and into the dining hall. "Father," I asked right away, "could Ariana and I take the horses out for a ride? We'd be home by dinner, of course - oh, terribly sorry, I did not realize you had a visitor." I allowed my gaze to fall on the guest, who was sitting across the table from my father, and who had stood as I entered.<p>

I took in the man's appearance.

As Ariana had said, he was tall. Much taller than Father. His forehead was domes, his eyes deeply sunken, and those small, beady, dark spheres stared out at the world with an extraordinary keenness. The whole head was engaged in some constant oscillation from side to side, almost as a cobra, poised to strike, and yet those glassy, dark eyes remained fixed immovably on my sister and I.

I, as Ariana had, observed the chalk residue upon his right hand. His shoulders were rounded, presumably from so much time bending over a desk. there were wrinkles around his mouth and receding hairline, but I had a sneaking suspicion that these were not due to age, but more likely experience in his field.

"Ah." Father's brow crinkled, before he turned to his guest. "Emily, Ariana, this is an old acquaintance of mine, Mr. Moriarty. James, these are my daughters."

The man's mouth turned upwards in a smile. I did not sense any emotion or happiness behind it. It appeared to me to be forced." "A pleasure, ladies." To each of us he performed a sweeping bow.

Father spoke again. "James and I were business partners long ago. He wasn't that far away from our humble estate and decided to pay me a visit."

"James" gestured with outspread arms. "I wouldn't want to keep either of you from your ride. I'll be staying for dinner, so there will be plenty of time to converse then, I am sure."

With consent from Father, we left. Once the heavy, soundproof wooden doors were closed, Ariana turned to me. "Father doesn't have business partners," she told me. "And you saw that train ticket; he was deliberately headed for Thorndon."

I took a deep breath before speaking the words that I willed not to be true. "Father's lying to us."

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><p><em>AN: Chapter 1 complete! I sincerely hope you enjoyed. Don't forget to leave any questions, comments, or feedback in a review! Stay tuned for more! -SWS_


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